


A million ways to spend your time

by Merricat Kiernan (rosa_himmelblau)



Series: The Roadhouse Blues [44]
Category: Wiseguy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27369037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa_himmelblau/pseuds/Merricat%20Kiernan
Summary: When Sonny finds Vinnie having a drink in a bar with a blonde, things do not work out the way he expected.
Series: The Roadhouse Blues [44]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1069713
Kudos: 1





	A million ways to spend your time

It wasn't like finding Vinnie in a bar was anything new, though it hadn't happened recently. Finding him sober, sitting in a booth, hip-deep in conversation with a friendly blonde, though—that was different all right. Sonny stood in the doorway watching, then moved to the bar and ordered a scotch. He had to admit, Vinnie had good taste; she looked to be a semi-pro, but she had that same sweetness about her the girls Vinnie picked always had.

He looked happy, which should've made Sonny happy, and it did, except it sort of pissed him off, too. It had been Vinnie's idea that there not be any more stewardesses—or any other broads—so him sneaking off to pick one up was—irritating. He wondered where Vinnie thought he was going to take her. Her place, maybe, or some motel. Sonny knew he wasn't thinking of bringing her home; that wasn't his style. And Sonny didn't care if he fucked her, except for the sneaking around. Sonny could understand why he'd want to fuck her; there had been plenty of nights he'd gone to sleep thinking of some soft, sweet thing. They'd never talked about how this whole thing was supposed to work; they'd just fallen into the assumption of exclusivity, though for the life of him Sonny couldn't figure out why. He'd more than once suggested they pick up a couple of girls, go out on the town, just to cheer Vinnie up, but Vinnie had always been resistant. Didn't feel like it. Too tired.

"Too tired, huh?" he muttered to himself. "Yeah, you look real tired." _Jealous?_ The nasty little word nagged at Sonny's mind. He hadn't suggested it lately, and Vinnie hadn't been too tired for anything, but somehow that didn't seem to matter. Sonny ordered another drink. So did Vinnie, for himself and the girl. _Maybe he just likes sneaking around, some guys do. Hell, it's what he used to do for a living, maybe he misses it._

Or maybe what he missed was the hunt. Sonny had to admit that most of the time, the hunt was the best part. Once you caught one, there usually wasn’t much difference.

He scanned the bar, looking for anything interesting, but his eyes kept going back to the blonde. Vinnie and the blonde. He looked **happy.** Not that he'd been looking unhappy lately, either, he'd been doing real well since they got home, but— _Who is she? Nobody, just some girl who hangs around this bar, letting guys buy her a drink or two, then take her home._

She scooted a little closer to Vinnie. _Big deal. In a day or two he won't even remember her name—_

They were laughing, having a good time. Vinnie put his arm around her waist. "And we have contact." The bartender was looking at him funny but Sonny stared him down. _Looks like he has a better time without me than with me._ The thought pissed him off even more, but watching this honey practically sitting in Vinnie's lap was giving him a hard-on. _Is this where you went when you use'ta disappear on me, huh?_

He didn't believe that, didn't believe Vinnie'd been sneaking out on him back then, and he sure wasn't doing it now. If he'd been doing it then, his mood wouldn't've been so dark and dismal all the time. Sonny couldn't figure out what he should do, what he wanted to do. Well, what he wanted to do was go over and tell Vinnie to get his ass out of that chair and get home, but he couldn't, and not just because the words sounded frighteningly like his mother. That wasn't it. He wanted to join them at the table and take Vinnie's new friend away from him— _Oh, yeah, now that'd be nice. I bet she's never told a guy to take cold shower once in her life._ Of course, Vinnie had never actually said that, and since he got back, he'd quit acting like he didn't know whether he wanted to be touched or not, but that wasn't the point.

What was the point? Sonny wasn't sure. Maybe it was that in all that bad time Sonny had never gone looking for someone else. Maybe it was something else, he didn't care. He was pissed off, and he had a hard-on.

_Where **do** you think you're gonna take her, huh? Back to her place? Were you even going to call? Or maybe you were gonna bring her home to share?_

No, he really wasn't. That weird puritanical streak of Vinnie's—the one that made him turn down a blow-job in the backseat of the limo (and from a woman whose mouth should have been insured by Lloyd's of London)—proved how unpredictable he was in these matters.

_Maybe he was gonna bring her home, hope I wouldn't show too soon. Wouldn't that be something to come home too—sheets all wrinkled, smelling like perfume and Vinnie, him sprawled all over the bed like he did after a great night._

The blonde was rubbing delicately at her left eye, then Vinnie had her head tipped back, peering into it. "Yeah, she's on your trail. All you gotta do is turn around and you'll have her." _What the hell, maybe I should just go over and tell him I'll be out all night, let him know the coast's clear._

Only he didn't want to. He wanted—

He wanted to see the blonde on her back, her legs in the air, Vinnie giving it to her like there was no tomorrow. Yeah, that's what he wanted, to watch Vinnie fuck this sweet thing until they were both out of their minds. "Now that sounds like a good idea." It made his hard-on worse, but it improved his mood immeasurably.

The bartender was looking at him oddly again. Sonny ordered another drink, paid his tab, then drank his drink down and walked over to Vinnie's table.

The blonde noticed him before Vinnie did, and the way she smiled made him think **she** wouldn't be a bit averse to going home with the two of them.

Vinnie gave him a hazy sort of smile. Not drunk, but for the moment feeling no pain. "Hey, what're you doing here?"

"Stopped in for a drink. Mind if I join you?"

Vinnie's eyes had cleared a little, gotten wary, maybe because of the less-than-friendly tone of Sonny's voice. "Yeah, sure."

Sonny gave the blonde a slow look up and down. "Gonna introduce me?"

"I'm Jill," she said, putting out her hand. Sonny took it, introducing himself, watching the way Vinnie looked over her head, into the distance. She must have sensed some discontent, because in a moment she was shifting away from him, sliding out of the booth. "Have to fix my lipstick," she purred at Vinnie, threw Sonny a playful smile, and headed for the ladies' room.

"I thought you were having dinner with Tracy," Vinnie said.

"Didn't pan out." He clinked the ice around in his glass for a minute, then put down the glass. "You want me to stay someplace else tonight?"

"What?" Vinnie acted like he didn't know what Sonny was talking about.

Sonny rolled his eyes, picked up Vinnie's drink and took a swallow. "Don't be obtuse." That was one of Vinnie's words.

Vinnie took his glass back. "Get your own drink. Or better yet, get your own girl."

"So she's your girl?" Sonny asked.

"I don't wanna grow old with her or anything, I just—" Vinnie shook his head. "What's up with Tracy?"

"Bug of some kind, she's got a fever and she's throwing up."

Vinnie nodded like he wasn't really listening. "You want to go, then? Have you eaten yet?"

"Go where? **I'm** having a good time, aren't you?"

Vinnie handed him back his glass, and signaled to the waiter. "I was just going to get a burger and go home."

"Is that on Jill's agenda?"

"I didn't ask, but if you want to invite her along, g'head, be my fucking guest." Vinnie seemed pissed off with him, but Sonny wasn't sure why.

Jill came back to the table, slid in next to Vinnie, though not quite as close as before, and she was looking at Sonny.

"You hungry?" Vinnie asked, and when she said she was, announced they were going somewhere to get a couple hamburgers, did Sonny want to come along?

_Sure, why not?_

They walked down the block to a hamburger joint Vinnie favored because it wasn't part of a chain. What difference that made, Sonny couldn't have said; the food was still lousy. Sonny hit the men's room to wash his hands, and in a minute Vinnie followed him in.

"You gonna take her away from me?" Vinnie asked, and before Sonny could answer, "You're pathological, you know that? You always do this! She's just some girl I was talking to in a bar, but you've gotta get between us—hey, you wanna take her, g'ahead, be my guest! You're a fucking head-case—and an idiot."

He walked out without doing anything more than shaking his hands dry, before Sonny could even ask what was wrong with him.

_"You gonna take her away from me?" Like anybody could take a girl away from you, looking the way you look. Maybe if she was blind, but otherwise—not a chance._ Sonny didn't know what that meant, didn't know why Vinnie had called him pathological, didn't know what _you've gotta get between us_ meant. How much had Vinnie had to drink, anyway?

Sonny ate his hamburger and watched while Vinnie and Jill played kissy-face, thinking about how much better a time he could have had taking Tracy's temperature and holding her hair while she threw up. And Jill kept looking at him like she was waiting for something.

By the time the food was all gone, Jill actually was sitting in Vinnie's lap and Sonny was making a concentrated effort to just sit there and say nothing.

"I don't think your friend likes me," Jill stage-whispered to Vinnie, who laughed.

"Sure he does, he's just shy. Believe me, he'll get warmed up real quick once we're back at our place."

"Our place?" Jill asked. "You two live together?"

_Shit, thanks a lot, now she thinks we're a couple'a fags._

"Nah, I'm just staying with him 'til I get a place of my own."

Sonny nearly laughed. Vinnie was always making things up on the spot when there were girls around, probably to keep his lying skills honed. He'd once told a girl he'd worked inside the White House, and she'd believed him.

"Uh-huh," she giggled, skeptically. Sonny had a sharp longing for the days when a problem like this could be handled with a shallow grave in an out-of-the-way place.

"You ready?" Vinnie asked Sonny.

"Yeah, sure." _Ask me what I'm ready for, why don't you, or do you want to wait 'til tomorrow to start spending your time in traction?_

Vinnie seemed happy to have Jill clinging to him like a barnacle as they walked back to the apartment. Sonny wasn't sure what his part in this deal was supposed to be—voyeur? In the abstract, thinking about Vinnie doing some strange girl was hot; here in the moment it wasn't doing a thing for him.

"Change your mind?" Vinnie asked.

"Not me," Jill assured him.

"About what?" Sonny asked. He didn't want to watch some girl drive Vinnie crazy, he wanted to do it himself. He wanted to know nobody could get him hotter, or get him off better.

That was when he decided, what the hell, maybe he would take Jill away from Vinnie.

"Want anything to drink?" Vinnie asked Jill, who had removed herself from him and was looking around. "Another beer?"

She turned around and smiled at Sonny. "If it's your apartment, shouldn't you be asking me that?" She wasn't a girl who was used to guys not paying attention to her the way Sonny had not been paying attention all evening. She was looking to be—if not stolen away, at least coaxed and flattered. Flirted with. Sonny didn't feel like playing.

"It's his beer, you're his guest," Sonny answered, not smiling back.

Jill aimed her smile at Vinnie. "Yes, I would, thank you." When he'd left the room, she turned her attention back to Sonny. "You don't like me, do you?"

Sonny shook his head. "I just don't go after my friends' girls."

She moved closer to him. "Not even if she wants you to?"

Sonny didn't say anything. She hadn't figured out she wasn't the point, and Sonny wasn't going to tell her.

A little closer. "Not even if he wants you to?"

"You know what he wants?" Sonny asked, genuinely wanting an answer, if she had one. "If you know, maybe you can give it to him."

"I know what **you** want," Jill said, now close enough to Sonny to breathe on his cheek. "And I know what **I** want."

"Maybe you'll get it," Sonny said, throwing the emphasis just a little wrong, making it sound half-promise and half-threat. And Vinnie was back, handing her a beer.

"Everything settled?"

"Sure," Sonny told him. He took the unopened beer can out of Jill's hand and tossed it to Vinnie. "You can watch or you can wait out here—your choice." And he took her by the hand and led her into his bedroom.

Sonny kept his attention on Jill while they undressed, touching her occasionally while she unbuttoned her sweater, kicked off her sandals, until they were both naked and he pushed her down on the bed. There was something incendiary in her eyes—she liked the idea that she was causing trouble, and it was all Sonny could do not to tell her that whatever game she was playing, she hadn't won. She wasn't the prize, either; he was standing over in the doorway, still holding the unopened beer. She was just a pawn, and they always got tossed out first.

Sonny met Vinnie's gaze and Vinnie smiled at him, shook his head, but it wasn't a denial. It was resignation. Sonny climbed on top of her.

Her breasts were soft; that was something he did miss, how soft girls were. _And the way she smells . . . yeah, that's nice, shampoo and perfume._ She felt good underneath him, and she was ready for him, and slipping inside her was as easy as breathing. She moved her hips with his, finding his tempo, showing him hers, until they found a rhythm they shared. Not for the first time he wondered what he was doing with Vinnie anyway. Women were easy, their bodies were easy, accessible, warm. It was easy to make them happy, and it didn't matter that you didn't know what they were thinking because whatever it was, it didn't matter.

The cold beer dripping onto his lower back was an annoyance, and Sonny started to tell Vinnie to cut it out. But then the beer dribbled down his ass, Vinnie's tongue following it, and it was anything but annoying.

More beer. More tongue. Jill was moving against him, rotating her hips and Sonny was going out of his mind. Vinnie's mouth followed a wet trail up Sonny's back, to his neck. "Now you've got a choice," Vinnie whispered.

Sonny wasn't thinking too clearly, couldn't follow whatever it was Vinnie was saying. "Yeah, yeah, sure," he agreed.

"Yeah?" Vinnie asked. "OK, then you get her off, get her out of here, and we'll see what we can do." He poured a little beer on Sonny's neck, licked it up. "Just don't come."

_Just don't come?! You bastard—_ This was worse than blue balls in high school, worse than when Cristina Labbaci's parents came home just when she was going to let him put it in—

And Vinnie was still licking his neck. He reached back, trying to slap him away. "Cut it out!"

Vinnie laughed, but he moved away.

Fortunately, Jill seemed to be getting there. Sonny forced his mind to go to less erotic places. He thought about the money he'd lost that morning on a stock he'd had high hopes for—

Jill's hands were on his shoulders, holding onto him as though she was afraid of being swept away.

He thought about way his car had been stalling out at long stop lights— _something for Vinnie to do, anyway—don't think about Vinnie!_

She was making small gasping sounds, a teakettle on the brink of boiling. Sonny put his hands under her ass and pulled her up closer to him, hoping to make better contact, thinking about re-painting the living room, something with a little more life to it than eggshell or whatever the fuck it was—

_Curtains, new curtains, yeah, that would—_

Jill cried out once, her body going very still. Sonny kept riding her hard, wringing her out, trying not to think about what he was doing, what he was feeling, thinking about painting the living room, a new carpet, killing Vinnie, killing him and burying his body where nobody would ever find it.

Pulling out of her was agony, a defiance of everything his body was screaming he wanted. He rolled over, away from her, pulling the sheet with him. If she touched him, he was going to smack her one.

A little time passed; Sonny heard Vinnie giving Jill her clothes, some money for cab fare. He didn't hear what she said, if she said anything. He didn't care. He felt like his balls had been tied in a knot. He lay very still, trying not to feel anything at all, trying to let himself wind down.

The bed dipped as Vinnie got on it with him. "Touch me, I'm gonna deck you," Sonny muttered, and Vinnie laughed and shoved him over onto his stomach. Sonny didn't feel any beer, but he did feel Vinnie licking his way down to his ass. It felt really good, and it helped loosen Sonny up, made him feel less like punching Vinnie and more like kissing him. Vinnie had his legs apart, was pushing his tongue in as deep as he could. "Oh, yeah, do it, that's nice." Some part of his mind wondered why Vinnie was doing this. He'd never done it before.

"You nice and relaxed?" Vinnie asked, lifting his head. "You ready for more?"

"More what?" Sonny asked. The question didn't make any sense to him.

"More me."

That answer didn't make any sense either. Vinnie had moved away, but then he was back, his fingers going to Sonny's ass, and feeling cold and slippery. For a moment all Sonny could think of was the sensation; then it dawned on him what it was a prelude to.

"Keep doin' that, this's gonna hurt like hell," Vinnie said in response to the way Sonny had tightened up. He didn't sound overly concerned about it. He'd got one finger in and was . . . Sonny wasn't sure what. Whatever it was, it felt good. It also felt like being tried on in a dressing room, found to fit—and now he was going to be worn home—

"What're you doing?" He knew; he just wanted to make Vinnie say it.

"Searching for the Ark of the Covenant," Vinnie answered sarcastically. "What do think I'm doing?" He was easing in another finger.

Panic was rising, trying to take over, telling Sonny to put an end to this—while his body was telling his mind to shut up, shut up, it feels so good. And that just panicked him more. It wasn't supposed to feel good, it wasn't supposed to feel good. Sonny kept thinking that, sort of the way you had to keep reminding yourself which way was up when you were blind drunk and kept feeling like you were going to fall sideways off the floor. This wasn't supposed to feel good, what Vinnie was doing to him, except why wasn't it? Because he wasn't a fag didn't make sense; by that reasoning, Vinnie sucking him wouldn't feel good either, and that sure wasn't true. Vinnie's mouth should be considered one of natural wonders of the world.

"Quit thinking so much!" Vinnie gave his ass a sharp smack. "Just relax and let me do the thinking."

Yeah. That sounded like a great idea, except he knew what Vinnie was thinking.

"You're the one who said we weren't going to talk about this stuff—wha'd you expect, I'd send you a telegram?"

He sounded really pissed off, which for some reason comforted Sonny. _Yeah. This's Vinnie. It'll be OK._

Vinnie slapped his ass again, harder. "Will you relax? You'd think I didn't know what I was doing."

_Do you?_ Sonny wondered, but he didn't ask because he wasn't sure which answer would scare him more. And why wasn't it supposed to feel good? If it didn't feel good, why would anyone ever do it?

The second finger was in him fully, sending an overture of pleasure through him. "You're about there," Vinnie said with satisfaction. "Gimme the pillows."

Sonny snagged one, tossed it at him, biting his lips to keep from saying the one foolish thought that kept coming to him: _Aren't you supposed to ask first?_ He couldn't remember if he'd asked Vinnie last month in Milan. Probably not, but Vinnie hadn't tried to stop him—

_Is this you trying to stop him?_ No, he wasn't, but— _Why not?_ He didn't want to think about that question, and anyway, Vinnie was pulling his hips up, stuffing the pillows underneath him. "Try to relax, will you? It's no big deal."

Sonny started to argue with that, but Vinnie interrupted him. "You know, she was just the bait. You were the goal."

Sonny had the feeling that should scare him, but—

well, maybe it did. But it also turned him on like crazy.

And then Vinnie's cock going into him wiped every thought out of his mind. He wasn't taking it easy, wasn't trying to be gentle, he was— _taking what he wants._ That idea sent a shock wave through Sonny. Eighty-to-zero had been torture; zero-to-eighty was delirious; in spite of the pain, whatever Vinnie was doing had him on the edge, ready to cum, yeah, yeah, all he needed was a little help, something better than humping a pillow—

He went to grab his cock, but Vinnie pulled his hand away, ordered—ordered! him to stop it or he'd tie him down. That wasn't where he was feeling it anyway, it was something inside, but still, his cock wanted to be touched, it didn't make sense to be feeling this without doing anything—it was like defying gravity.

Vinnie was moving hard inside him, creating a friction, a drag that left Sonny feeling like he was drowning one breath at a time. _Why're you letting him do this?_ echoed every thrust, and the answers— _What makes you think you could stop him? If he stops, I'll kill him!_ served only to send him higher and higher. Vinnie was taking what he wanted.

And what he wanted now was Sonny's dick. He pulled Sonny over onto his side, reached around. Sonny had never loved Vinnie's big, strong hands more than at this moment, one of them moving up and down over his dick, the other cupping his balls almost tenderly.

This new position had slowed his thrusts, and he seemed to be deliberately keeping Sonny just on the edge of release.

"Do you trust me?" Vinnie asked in his ear, his voice near a whisper.

"What?" The last thing Sonny wanted at that moment was a conversation.

"Do you trust me?" Vinnie punctuated his question by squeezing Sonny's cock roughly.

"Fuck—I **better** trust you! What kind of question's that?"

Vinnie shoved into him, hard. "I was having a drink, we started talking, that was as far is I was going to take it. Do you believe me?"

Sonny didn't know if this wasn't making sense because Vinnie wasn't making sense, or because he just didn't give a shit about what Vinnie was saying. _Just agree with him, maybe he'll shut up._ "Sure, yeah, I believe you."

"Yeah, sure you do." Vinnie gave him another rough squeeze. "I'll remind you of that later."

Once Vinnie shut up, it didn't take long for Sonny to get off. The sensations came from deep inside his body, his limp dick virtually irrelevant, but who cared? He'd never felt anything like it in his life. He didn't even know when he'd lost his erection, and Vinnie didn't seem to care. _There was something about two parties._ Sonny was trying to remember what it was, but his mind didn't care enough to go hunting for the information.

Vinnie coming inside him was another first, wet and warm, but by then what most interested Sonny was sleep. He didn't usually fall asleep right after sex, but then he'd never felt quite so wiped out after sex.

"Have we settled everything now?" Vinnie asked, pulling out.

"Ow," Sonny muttered, wondering why that should hurt.

Vinnie laughed. "Have we settled everything now?" he repeated. "Gimme back my pillow." He jerked it out from under Sonny's hips. "Yuck, you came all over it." He threw it on the floor.

Sonny laughed. "Yeah? Too bad."

Vinnie was doing something with the covers, with Sonny's pillow, throwing it on the floor, Sonny thought, then he was back in bed, on his own side, nothing of him touching Sonny but the heat of his body, and the covers were over Sonny, and the lights were off. Sonny's lights were nearly off too.

"Have we settled everything now?" Vinnie asked again. He wasn't going to shut up 'til Sonny gave him an answer, but Sonny didn't know what he was talking about.

"Yeah, sure, we've settled everything." He didn't know what they'd settled and he didn't care.

Vinnie laughed again, moved closer to spoon against him, one arm under Sonny's head as an awkward pillow. It was more than comfortable enough.


End file.
